America X The Smart Ass Reader Patriotic Fries
by Love Kari
Summary: A reader insert. Read and Review please!


The noise of people confined in the small restaurant ring in your ears. That is, if this place even deserves the title of 'Restaurant'.

You finally reach the line and look up impatiently at the cashier.

"Sorry, I'm going on break." He says. "Another guy will help you right away." He smiles.

"Seriously?" You grumble in irritation. You can't believe the wait for _this_, place of all places, had been fifteen minutes. You tap your foot impatiently as the apologetic cashier backs away from you death stare. The people behind you are complaining.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Where's the new cashier? It's been forever already. You can feel exhaustion creeping into your system. Shouldn't of stayed up so late last night.

"Yo, dudes. Sorry for the wait!" A loud voice says, nearly shouting. You look up, slightly shocked at the smiling four-eyes, dressed in the golden arches' uniform from head to toe. You can't help but mentally gawk at this guy-oh, wait, you're doing it with your face anyways. You find it weird he almost looks to good to be working at a good ol' Mickey D's. A plain nametag is pinned to his shirt read 'Alfred'.

"What can I get for you?" He asks, his voice slowly turning less enthusiastic.

"Uh, I'll have a big mac. Everything on it." You say.

"You want fries with that?" He asks, raising his voice slightly. What's this guy's problem? It's almost as if he thinks he's better than you.

"No, I don't." You raise your voice back at him. "Not really in the mood for French fires."

"Whoa, chill out!" He says before processing what you've said. "Wait, what? You don't want _freedom fries_?" He says in complete shock. You look at him blankly.

"Freedom fries…? Do you have something against France?"

He ignores you. "A burger without fries is like…" He pauses for a long while. You can hear the angry whispers behind you. "Like…like me not being the hero!" He exclaims. Is this guy an idiot? That analogy didn't even make sense.

"Can I just have my damn total?" You raise your voice. Why were the psychos always hired here?

He's shocked. In fact, it looks like you've hurt him.

Just as you're about to apologize, he perks up suddenly saying, "Four bucks and five cents." In a strange, cheery tone.

You take out your wallet and reluctantly hand him the money, the most dumbfounded look you can make of plastered on your face.

He gives you your change and enthusiastically shouts, "Next!"

You sit at a booth way in the back so you don't have to worry about 'Alfred' staring at you or something. After what seems an eternity you start to doze off. You inhale the warm smell of food. Gosh, what made you come to McDonald's in the first place?

Opening your eyes, a tray of food sits in front of you.

"Sorry for the wait!" An all too familiar voice shouts. You blink awake seeing 'Alfred' standing at the front of your table. Two big macs, soft drinks, and a large helping of (apparently) freedom fries sit on the table.

The only thing you can think to say is, "I didn't order this." You notice 'Alfred' isn't wearing his uniform. Just how long were you sleeping? "I'm not paying for this either." You demand. He bursts out laughing while you stare in confusion.

"Don't worry." He says between laughs, wiping away a couple tears. "It's on me."

"Say what now?"

"Well, I thought I ticked you off earlier so I thought I'd make it up to you." He laughs, plopping himself down on the bench across from you.

"Hey…" You say in an attempt to stop him, but he starts eating. "I'm sure you ticked off plenty of people." You shoot, picking up your burger.

"Yeah, I know." He says in a cherry tone, stuffing his face full of big mac. Is he even listening to you?

"What's your name?" He asks after swallowing. He pushes up his brown glasses. You notice the blonde's got really nice blue eyes. Yeah, okay, he's handsome you admit. One heck of a handsome idiot.

"I'm _. And you're Alfred I assume?" You say slyly, taking a bite of your burger.

"Whoa! How's you know?" He asks all energetically, his voice louder in surprise. You blush a little at his face. Wait, what? No, it's annoying, you attempt to convince yourself. It's not really working.

"Your name tag earlier." You explain.

"Oh, right." He chuckles.

As you go for the fries, a warm sensation touches your hand. You pull back slightly, realizing you were both thinking the same thing.

"See?" He says.

"What?" You ask.

"I told you you'd want fries! After all, a burger without freedom fries is totally un-American." He says all full of himself. You kind of smile.

"Yeah, maybe you're right."


End file.
